


honestly is (usually) the best policy

by nicolevixen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: !!!, And He Knows It, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Birthday Semi Eita, Humor, M/M, Rated T for underage drinking and because swearing is sober shirabu’s personal hobby, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking, i cannot stress that enough it’s all just fluff, implied kawashiki - Freeform, pure fluff, semi is whipped for shirabu, the entirety of shiratorizawa show up/are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27506911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicolevixen/pseuds/nicolevixen
Summary: “I don’t mind,” Shirabu hums. He beams, like a sudden shooting star, and Semi nearly dies all over again, “I like it actually.”Semi silently apologizes to whatever entity he might have offended that put him in this situation, because he doesn’t think anyone can endurethisadorable Shirabu and not die from cardiac arrest.[or where shirabu is an honest drunk, and semi suffers because of it.]
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 15
Kudos: 230





	honestly is (usually) the best policy

**Author's Note:**

> *disappear for two months and shows up again with semishira and starbucks* whats up
> 
> happy birthday semisemi. I got you a drunk shirabu and a multitude of gay panics

Semi sits in Ushijima’s dorm room surrounded by emptied bottles of alcohol, and his very drunk and very unconscious friends. 

The only two awake other than himself were Goshiki and Shirabu, the former Semi had refused to let drink, no matter the excuse. The latter was sitting quietly, nursing a half-empty bottle in his hands with a pretty flush on his cheeks.

Semi kinda wishes he was drunk. But _someone_ had to be the responsible one, and apparently that someone had to be him. 

It wasn’t much of a big deal either. Semi was used to this; this being his stupidly drunk friends. 

(He doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.)

Ushijima sits on his bed with his back against the wall, fast asleep, though still sitting up. Semi had quickly learned that the ace was a tired drunk after he had almost collapsed in the middle of the hall the last time the group went drinking. It was not a pleasant experience.

Tendou, whose head was lying on Ushijima’s lap, also fast asleep, was an impulsive drunk, aka the bane of Semi’s constant headache. With the redhead’s already impulsive behaviour without alcohol and his scary intuition, the entire dormitory’s kitchen had nearly caught on fire last time. Not fun for anyone.

Reon, despite his large build, was one of the biggest lightweights Semi had ever met in his entire life. He usually knocked himself unconscious in less than one drink, and almost always didn’t have his memory of when he was in his intoxicated state. _That_ was fun to mess with. 

The last, but not least was Yamagata, who was an emotional drunk. Also known as either one of the most annoying to deal with, or the sweetest. He had spent the first ten minutes of today’s drinking session crying about school, then volleyball, then on how much he loved his teammates, before falling unconscious. Also pretty funny.

Semi had just learned today that Kawanishi was definitely an affectionate drunk, with his limbs wrapped around Goshiki like a koala and his chin in the younger boy’s hair. Goshiki looks as if he’s having some sort of crisis. 

Semi checks the time. It’s nearly midnight. He wearily stares at his sleeping friends and then at Goshiki. The boy shoots him an awkward thumbs-up, with his arms restrained.

“Okay, I’m going to head out then.” Semi stands up, stretching his limbs, “Night everyone,” He says, even though they were all unconscious.

As Semi turns around, something latches onto his ankle. It’s Shirabu, staring up at him with innocently wide eyes that make Semi’s heart do a hundred backflips in a row. Shirabu looks almost sober if it wasn’t for the drunken flush on his cheeks.

“Uh,” Semi coughs, “Shirabu?” He shakes his leg a little, but the boy doesn’t let go. Semi tries to get Goshiki’s help, but he’s already fast asleep in Kawanishi’s arms, already having accepted his fate. 

“Hey, Shirabu,” Semi said cautiously, in fear of upsetting the boy. He doesn’t know what Shirabu’s like when drunk, and he doesn’t want to risk him exploding and waking everyone up, “Can you let go of my ankle? I gotta go back to my room and sleep.” 

It has the opposite effect and Shirabu clutches Semi’s ankle tighter, “Stay here.”

Semi blinks. “Huh?” 

“Stay here with me, Semi-san,” Shirabu muttered, “Don’t leave me here alone.” 

“Uh.” 

Needless to say, Semi was not prepared for this. Perhaps Shirabu was a flirty drunk? 

“Do you,” Semi hesitated; he never thought he would ask this to Shirabu in his life. “Do you maybe want me to walk you back to your room?” 

Shirabu stared blankly in space for a moment, before giving a tiny nod. He gets to his feet, stumbling, and Semi instinctively grabs onto his waist to steady him. He does not need another repeat of Ushijima, thank you very much. 

Shirabu continues to stare at him. A small smile appears on his face and Semi nearly dies of a cuteness-induced heart attack, “That’s very forward of you, Semi-san,” He says, poking the hand on his waist.

Semi sputters and drops his arm, “Oh, sorry?” He opens the door, his face burning. Shirabu is a flirty drunk. Definitely a flirty drunk. 

“I don’t mind,” Shirabu hums. He beams like a sudden shooting star, and Semi nearly dies all over again, “I like it actually.” 

Semi silently apologizes to whatever entity he might have offended that put him in this situation, because he doesn’t think anyone can endure _this_ adorable Shirabu and not die from cardiac arrest.

Shirabu walks out of the room first. Semi makes sure everyone is fast asleep, before turning off the lights and locking the door. He was a good person, but he definitely was going to laugh at his friend’s at their expense tomorrow. 

Shirabu is now staring aimlessly at one of the vending machines lining the hall in eerie silence. Semi waits for him to say something, thoroughly weary.

“I broke this vending machine,” Shirabu admits at random, still staring at the many selection of drinks, “I got mad and kicked it and the glass broke. I got away with it and someone else got blamed.” 

Semi also wasn’t expecting that, “Uh. Cool?” He says, internally kicking himself for his amazing response. He faintly wonders why the boy brought it up.

Shirabu shrugs and starts walking away. 

“Hey, your dorm is the other way,” Semi calls out. Semi is tired. Tired and confused. Tired, confused, and very gay; especially when Shirabu turns around to look at him with wide eyes and surprised pursed lips that makes him look much too cute and unlike the devil he was. 

“I’m tired.” Shirabu gently stomps his foot with a pout, “Carry me.” 

Semi sputters for the thirtieth time that hour, _“What?”_

He doesn’t get paid enough for this. He doesn’t get paid at all actually; he should get paid. Or maybe be allowed to get drunk for once instead of being the chaperone that deals with all this utter _bullshit._

Shirabu makes grabby motions with his hands like a toddler would, “I’m tired. Carry me please, Semi-san.” 

“I– I am _not–_ I am not carrying you!” 

“Please?” Shirabu asks again, stumbling over to Semi and staring at him with large puppy eyes. As soon as Semi stares into those caramel eyes, he feels the final nail in his coffin get hammered in. 

So because Semi’s absolutely whipped, he turns around and gets onto his knee with a grunt. Shirabu quickly scrambles onto his back and instantly buries his face in the crook of Semi’s neck with a content sigh.

Semi thinks he had ascended to his own heaven. Or maybe hell, depending on his outlook. 

No matter. He could die after he gets Shirabu back to his room. So he moves Shirabu’s arms to wrap around his neck, holds onto the boy’s thighs and starts walking. 

“You smell nice,” Shirabu mutters, a minute into the silence with nothing but Semi’s quiet footsteps echoing in the empty hall, “You always smell nice–“ He sneezes, “Your hair is tickling me,” He sniffles.

“Uh, sorry?” Semi has no clue what’s going on right now, and he wishes an answer could gently punch him in the face and tell him. 

“It’s fine. Your hair is soft. It’s pretty.” 

“Uh, _sorry?”_ Semi chokes out again, cringing at how his voice cracks. 

Shirabu hums, “You’re really pretty. It annoys me. It makes me want to punch you.”

“Well,” Semi starts because that sounds _a lot_ like a confession, though it could always be wishful thinking. He’s really good at that. “Thanks for being honest?” 

“Mmh.”

Silence again. Semi thinks Shirabu is asleep and uses this time to piece together his thoughts on what the living fuck is going on. He knows he may not be the brightest, but he thinks human brains tend to work quicker in life or death situations. 

“Your heart is beating really fast, Semi-san.” 

  
  
He squeaks. Not asleep. Shirabu is definitely _not asleep._

“Don’t worry about it,” Semi blurts, “I’m probably just going into cardiac arrest right now.” 

Shirabu honest to god _giggles_ and Semi has a heart attack all over again, emptying probably important space in his mind just to store the sound forever. 

“You’re cool, Semi-san. You’re so cool.” Shirabu shuffles around a little, “You’re cooler than Tendou-san, but that isn’t much of a challenge since I don’t find Tendou-san cool at all.” 

Semi snickers. He quite likes drunk Shirabu, with him being honest and sweet, and not aggressive and bitter. 

It then strikes Semi on the spot. _Honest._ Shirabu Kenjirou, residential salt mine and team’s star asshole is an _honest drunk._ Then that would mean–

“I like your laugh too,” Shirabu continues, “I tell Taichi that all the time and he threw a shoe at me.” 

Semi stifles his laughter again and lets Shirabu continue talking, as his mind continues to whirl. Now that he thinks about it, this is the longest he has heard Shirabu talk; in general, and without swearing.

“You’re also pretty when you’re laughing. I wanted to kiss you one time when you were laughing, but I was nervous so I didn’t,” Shirabu says, his voice going quieter and quieter with each word. 

And Semi freezes in place, because if what Shirabu has said earlier wasn’t a confession, this _definitely_ was. 

“Semi-san?” Shirabu’s tiny voice broke him out of his little daydream, “Semi-san, are you okay?” 

Semi swallows, straightens up and continues walking. He can see Shirabu’s dorm room up ahead, “You like me, huh?” 

He feels Shirabu’s nod, “Uh-huh. I really do like you even if you’re annoying all the time and not that smart.”

_Ouch,_ Semi winces, _How brutally honest._ He’s plenty smart, he just doesn’t do well on quizzes. Or his homework. Or any sort of marked activity. 

“You’re being quiet again.” 

“I was just thinking.” 

“Don’t do that. It’s unlike you.” 

Semi sighs without annoyance and with fondness slipping in instead, “Are you confessing to me or are you insulting me right now?”

Shirabu giggles again. Semi thinks he already has the sound firmly locked in his mind, but he certainly won’t mind hearing it some more. 

“I dunno, but I like you. You’re cool. Sometimes you're cooler than Ushijima-san.” 

Semi’s heart straight up explodes. He would be completely content dying right now, dying with the knowledge that Shirabu Kenjirou _liked him. Holy. Shit._

Semi sees Shirabu’s room up ahead, but a small part of him doesn’t want this to end. He would like to stay like this forever, with Shirabu on his back and the two of them exchanging actual words and not just insults. 

And Semi is absolutely screwed. _Whipped._ Whipped to the max, and he knows it. 

They pass a small closet. “I locked Taichi and Goshiki in that closet last week because they were being gross,” Shirabu said casually, like he didn’t just give Semi a hundred different heart attacks in the span of ten minutes, “Taichi made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone.” 

“Okay, I won’t tell anyone,” He lies, like a lying liar. He’s definitely going to have to bring that up and find out what happened once everyone is awake tomorrow.

“Mmh. Taichi threatened to lock me in there with you.” Shirabu’s eyes sparkled, “I wouldn’t have mind.”   
  
  


Semi flusters at the implications, “Thankfully that didn’t happen then. I probably would’ve been real mad.” 

“Uh-huh, but I don't mind that as well.” There’s a smug lilt in his tone, “I think it's kinda hot when you’re mad.” 

And Semi nearly drops Shirabu onto the ground all over again, his face burning. He’s thankful that Shirabu is on his back and can't see his face from there.

Shirabu thinks he’s pretty. 

Shirabu thinks he’s cool. 

Shirabu thinks he’s hot, which is _very_ different from pretty. 

_Shirabu likes him._

“You’re drunk,” Semi chokes out. _This boy._ The way he suffers because of this boy. 

“I know. But that doesn’t make me less truthful,” Shirabu says, and Semi has to silently agree despite how he really, really, _really_ doesn’t want to. Drunk Shirabu _is_ the opposite of sober Shirabu.

When he reaches the door of Shirabu’s room, he finds it unlocked and walks in, closing the door behind him. 

He drops Shirabu onto his bed, the boy giggling as he plops down into the soft blankets. While Shirabu tucks himself into bed, Semi looks around the room. It’s mostly empty, filled with textbooks and bulky novels. There are also volleyball magazines and half-used rolls of finger tapes lying around. 

_It’s a bit boring,_ Semi thinks to himself silently. He should buy something for Shirabu to decorate his room with. Maybe a cute lamp, or a plant. _A cactus,_ Semi muses, _prickly. Just like his personality._

“Are you done looking around, Semi-san?” 

Shirabu is sitting up in his bed, his lower half of his body covered by his blanket. He still has those wide, innocent eyes and rosy blush that makes Semi flush despite himself.

“Your room’s a bit bland,” He explains, running his knuckles over the spine of some of the larger volumes. He can make out the English word of _‘Medic’,_ but nothing else, “You should liven it up a little.” 

“My room is fine, thank you very much.” Shirabu pouts with his cheeks puffing out, giving Semi another tiny heart attack. 

The conversation dies out. Semi scuffs his feet against the carpeted floor. Shirabu stares. 

“Sleep with me,” Shirabu says suddenly and right out of the blue.

Semi chokes all over again. He thinks he’s never going to get used to Shirabu or his (drunken) antics. _“What?”_

  
  
“Not like that, stuuupid.” Shirabu rolls his eyes and everything feels almost normal again, “Cuddle.” He puts his arms in front of him again, making those same grabbing motions from before.

Semi does really want to just get into bed and fall asleep next to him, but, “You’re drunk, I think that’s a little unfair of me to do.” Semi frowns, feeling a bit disappointed himself. If only sober Shirabu was this honest.

Shirabu stares off into space again, wearing a look of complete concentration, the very same when he’s in the middle of a particularly intense match of volleyball. It’s his thinking face, Semi knows.

“Then kiss me.” 

“Huh? How is that any better?” Semi yelps, his voice high-pitched and thoroughly embarrassed, “Are you joking?” 

But he knows that Shirabu isn’t joking, with the placid calm of his face and almost-normal stern tone of his voice, “You said you don’t want to do anything to the drunk me, right?” 

Semi nods. He’s not getting it so far. His face still burns at the thought of kissing Shirabu and his stupid face. 

“So tomorrow when I’m sober again, kiss me, even if I start getting annoyed at you.” Shirabu hesitated, “So then I won’t chicken out of it.” 

_Oh,_ Semi thinks, _Oh,_ he thinks, because drunk Shirabu is asking him to kiss sober Shirabu. He’s giving permission to let _Semi_ kiss _him. Sober Shirabu._ And Semi thinks he should actually say something and not just stand there with his mouth agape before assumptions could be made.

“Only if you want to,” Shirabu murmurs, casting his eyes away, “I don’t know.” 

“I do,” Semi blurts because he had just realized that this entire time, Shirabu was waxing poetics about him and he hadn't said a single thing back, “I do want to kiss you, I mean. So tomorrow.” 

Shirabu looks at him again, warm caramel eyes, rosy cheeks, and soft lips. He smiles, just slightly, but it’s still sweet as honey, “Promise?” He asks, extending his pinky. 

Semi stares outstretched finger, “Isn’t this a little childish–?”

“Promise?” He repeats, louder this time. 

Semi sighs and links their pinkies together, feeling the bit of warmth from the younger flow into him like a slow river stream. “Promise,” He says. This boy. The things he’s done and will do for this boy.

Shirabu buries himself in his pillows and sighs, a small happy sound, like a kitten. Semi watches him until he hears the boy’s breathing start to even out, signalling he was finally asleep. 

He smiles and leaves the room. He makes sure to lock the door behind him.  
  


* * *

  
  


It’s bright and early in the morning when Semi is heating up breakfast for his friends and teammates. Beside him are six glass cups filled to the brim with water; something his friends would definitely need with the hangovers they were definitely going to receive. 

Which, speaking of his teammates;

“..... you okay, senpai?” 

“I’m fine, Tsutomu. But can you please stop talking so loud–“

“Oh! Sorry about that, Kawanishi-senpai!” 

“That’s fine, but you’re yelling _again–“_

“Good morning,” Semi cuts in cheerfully as Kawanishi and Goshiki walk into the room, the former clutching his head, his bed-head worse than ever and his eyes more lidded than probably healthy. Semi goes and quickly turns off the lights. 

“If you could call it that, but thank you, Semi-san,” Kawanishi, polite as ever even when Semi’s sure he's dying inside. Kawanishi takes the offered cup of water and downs it in one gulp. Goshiki’s staring at him, so obviously awestruck that Semi cringes a little. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence. Semi never really talked to Kawanishi outside of practice, so it was a given not many words would be exchanged. Didn’t make it feel any nicer though. The microwave beeps.

“Did I do anything… weird last night?” Kawanishi starts slowly, looking a bit tentative for the answer, “Other than waking up cuddling Tsutomu, I mean.” 

“Nah,” Semi says, surprised. He didn’t think Kawanishi really cared for that sort of thing, “You were fine. Probably the most sane out of all of them, really.” 

Kawanishi visibly relaxes, his shoulders actually drooping, “Thank you. I was afraid you might have wanted to talk to me about behaviour.”

“Wait, what’s the supposed to mean–“ Semi pauses, a memory suddenly resurfacing, “Wait, no, I do have to talk to you about something. The closet thing last week–“

Kawanishi stares at him with a rare face of unadulterated horror, “Wait, how do you know–?”

The doors of the room open again, and Kawanishi is saved from Semi’s integration. Just for now. This wasn’t over, and Semi can see on Kawanishi’s face that he knew it. 

“I am never drinking again,” Someone groans. 

The rest of the third years stumble into the room, all in various states of disarray, except for Ushijima who looks as polished as ever. He even had his track clothes on, and small beads of sweat on his forehead. 

_Did he seriously go for a run this early in the morning while hungover?_ Semi wonders, _Does this guy get affected by anything?_

Semi keeps his thoughts swirling in his head as he slides cups of water across the table and to his friends. The cups are empty in no time. 

“Eita, you're a godsend,” Yamagata sighs. His cheek is flat against the surface of the table and his eyes were scrunched closed.

“Damn right I am,” He replies, smugly, “So don’t you forget it.”

“Right,” Tendou drawls, “Thanks, mom.” 

Yamagata quietly laughs. Reon looks dead with his face down on the table. Ushijima stares into space. Goshiki is a ball of nerves and Kawanishi is silent, like usual.

“I am _not_ your goddamn mom,” Semi huffs, turning around and grabbing more plates, “Your shoes are on wrong by the way. And Hayato, you're wearing your shirt backwards.”

The doors open again, and Semi instantly perks up when he hears a familiar voice growling out a _long_ chain of swears. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Tendou, unfortunately, and he suggestively wiggles his eyebrows at his friend. 

Semi would’ve liked to not punch a hungover and suffering person today, but since this was Tendou and he was being an asshole, he supposed he could make an exception. 

Ignoring Tendou’s hurt wails while he holds onto his arm, Semi grabs the last glass of water and makes his way to the doorway where Shirabu is standing. The boy looks fairly well, with only slightly ruffled hair and scrunched eyes. At least he was wearing his clothes correctly.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Semi teases, offering the cup of water. 

Shirabu’s face flares up, “Fuck off.” Is all he says, though he accepts the glass anyways. 

Semi’s grin only widens at the familiarity of the interaction. Shirabu squints at him, “Why are you in such a good mood?” 

  
  
Semi considers teasing him a bit. Just a little, so he could see Shirabu’s cute, angrily flushed face. He doesn’t know whether it would be worth it or not.

“Stop thinking, I don’t care anyways. It’s unlike you.” 

Ah. A sense of déjà vu hits Semi and answers his own question. He cuts straight to the chase, “What do you remember from last night?”

Someone wolf-whistles and Semi forgets that they’re still in the room and can be seen by everyone. Shirabu’s face burns darker, though he’s wearing a scowl. Someone wolf-whistles again. 

Very calmly, Semi places his hand on Shirabu’s eyes, smirking as he feels the boy’s face heat up. 

He then quickly turns on the lights. 

There’s a chorus of hurt and frustrated groans. Semi makes out a couple of apologies mixed in with all the noise and turns the lights off again, satisfied. He thinks he should start carrying a flashlight around to shine in his friend’s eyes when they get annoying.

Semi then pushes Shirabu outside, ignoring the boy’s confusion. He closes the door behind them as they enter the hall.

“So,” Semi prompts. 

Shirabu raises an eyebrow, “So?” He tilted his chin upwards, staring Semi right in the eyes. _Haughty,_ Semi thinks, _still cute._

Shirabu’s eyes weren’t like they were yesterday. Instead of soft and wide, they were sharp and narrow. It still looks good anyways, and Semi knows he’s absolutely whipped. He does know. He really does know, especially when Shirabu’s eyes narrow further, sending chills down Semi’s spine.

“Why are you acting so _weird–?”_

“Can I kiss you?” Semi blurts, and _oh my god he did not just say that._

Shirabu seems to be thinking the same thing, as he stumbles, surprised, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” Semi repeats, more confidently. Though really, it’s mostly just false confidence used to maybe disguise his previous mistake. 

“Semi-san,” Shirabu starts. He looks nervous. He actually looks _nervous._ “I don’t know what I might have said yesterday, but…” 

“Think about it. I bet you’d remember.” 

And so they stand in the empty hall together, Shirabu racking his brain for the fogged up memories from yesterday, and Semi watching him expectedly.

He can even pinpoint the exact moment Shirabu remembers, because his face flares up to the most ridiculous shade of pinkish-red that Semi’s ever seen. 

“Holy fucking shit. Fucking fuck, fucking hell shit–!”

“Sober you has quite the vocabulary,” Semi grins, thoroughly glad that Shirabu remembered, so just he wouldn’t have to explain himself with his words and horribly vague hand gestures, “It’s cute.” 

“Don’t–!” Shirabu jabs a finger into Semi’s chest, “Don’t you dare fucking patronize me.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Semi says, though it goes unnoticed because of Shirabu’s mental gay crisis. 

When Shirabu finally recovers enough to move, he surprises Semi by instantly bowing down, his bangs nearly brushing the floor, “I don’t really want to say this, but sorry. For what I said last night. Please forget about it, Semi-san.” 

The perfect opportunity. 

Semi hums, “No, I don’t think I will.” 

Shirabu shoots back up, grabbing his head with a wince. Semi had almost forgotten he was hungover with how spectacularly aggressive he was being. “Huh?” 

Semi likes this. The feeling of knowing something Shirabu doesn’t. He smirks, “I said, I don’t think I will forget it. You gave me quite the ego boost, y’know.” He watches Shirabu’s face blank and leans in closer, “You think I’m pretty, don't you?” 

“No.” Shirabu looks like he wants to melt and disappear into nothingness, “Absolutely not. You’re giving me a bigger headache.”

“But you like me, don’t you?” 

Shirabu still looks like he wants to melt and die, but he gives a stiff nod, looking away.

“Good. That’s good.” Semi straightens up, still smirking, “So?” 

“So what?” 

“Don’t you remember what you asked me last? Before you fell asleep?” Semi takes Shirabu’s wrist and loops his pinky around his own, “You made me promise something.” 

“A pinky promise?” Shirabu scrunches his nose, “That’s childish.” 

“I know right? That’s what I said.” 

“Promise…” Shirabu looks back up at Semi, “I don’t remember.” 

“You made me promise to kiss you.” Semi leans in closer, still holding onto Shirabu’s hands, “So?” 

  
  
Shirabu’s eyes are wide and his cheeks are flushed, just like yesterday, “W-Wait, what?” He takes a step back.

“You, ah, asked me to kiss you. So you couldn’t chicken out.” Semi then chickens out _himself,_ letting go of Shirabu’s hands and rubbing the nape of his neck. 

_Embarrassing,_ he thinks, _that was so embarrassing._

“Okay.” 

Now it's Semi’s turn to stumble. “Uh, what.” 

Shirabu has a face of pure determination. It’s also flushed, but Semi’s overlooking that right now, because _what._

“Okay. Kiss me then.” 

“Uh wait.” All semblance of confidence Semi may have had goes spiralling down the drain. This wasn't in the plan he had hastily written a second ago. “Wait a second–“

Shirabu, understandably, does not wait a second, and leans in, closer and closer and closer–

And he stumbles to the side, missing Semi’s mouth completely, swearing as he tips over. Semi catches his waist before he falls, laughing, the sound free and breathy. 

Semi grins, “This feels a bit familiar, don’t you think–“

Shirabu leans over, kissing him right on the mouth and effectively shutting him up. Semi can feel the heat radiating from the boy’s face on his own. Shirabu is warm and his lips were soft, just like Semi predicted. 

They pull apart after a few seconds, Semi breathless and smiling, and Shirabu flushed to the tip of his ears. 

“Your breath tastes awful,” Semi breathed, giddy from pure happiness. 

Shirabu smacks him on the arm, and stands on his toes, burying his face in the crook of Semi’s neck out of embarrassment. He doesn’t move, and Semi can feel each of his warm breaths sticking onto his skin.

“Stay over in my room tonight,” Shirabu mutters. He still sounds annoyed, like he still doesn’t want Semi anywhere near him. But Semi knows the truth. He’s happy. Shirabu is painstakingly happy and Semi can feel it from just being next to him. 

“Honest are we?” He teases. He rests his chin on his top of Shirabu’s head. They can stay here a while, basking in each other’s quiet presence. “But of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> but imagine,,, flirty drunk shirabu flirting with a dying semi. Or clingy/affectionate drunk semi trying to give his boyfriend a million hugs and kisses and shirabu pushing away becasue _oh my god semi stop I have a reputation._ Or like sleepy drunk shirabu curling up in semi’s lap and falling asleep, and semi panicking because _oh my god there’s a cute boy in my lap what do I do??_ the possibilities are endless,,,
> 
> my end notes are always too long I’m sorry–
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Thank you for just reading! Hopefully I won’t disappear into the void again
> 
> Edit: I just found out it’s pocky day today also and like, I feel robbed. I should’ve written a cliche pocky day fic
> 
> [My empty tumblr page](https://nicole-vixen.tumblr.com)


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